


Les Années Folles

by apeachy



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - 1920s, Drama, F/M, I haven't seen anyone do a 1920's ladybug yet, Implied Sexual Content, Romantic Fluff, let's bring the 20's back, so i chose to do it cuz i'm interested in the 1920's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23289643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apeachy/pseuds/apeachy
Summary: 1920's Paris, France is roaring with drama, romance, and jazz.When the mysterious fashion icon of Paris falls in love with the local jazz club owner, certain people will go to immeasurable lengths to separate the two. Will class distinction, money, power, and their reputations keep them apart?
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Kudos: 22





	1. Cocceinelle

**Author's Note:**

> So I had to research about the 1920s in France in order to write this fanfic, so I hope that I got all the details right. Also, I'm not French, so if my French is wack, please let me know in the comments. ^^

Marinette gazed down at the beautiful, sparkling, red dress she held and she set it down onto a counter with care. It needed to be safely tucked away until tonight because tonight was-

“Hey, Mari! Are you going to the party at Boîte de L’âme? It’s the talk of the town! All the other maids are sneaking off to it, like every party we go to.” Alya exclaimed as she burst into the little boutique. The small shop rattled and all the dresses on display swayed slightly due Alya’s force. “Please, please, please? It’s been a while since you’ve gone to a jazz club with me! Ever since you’ve opened your boutique, all you’ve been doing is work!”

“I’m sorry, but you know that these dresses must be delivered by a certain date. It’s not that I don’t want to go with you…” Marinette gulped. She wasn’t happy to lie to her best friend, but it was the only way she could keep her secret.

“Ugh, fine. You totally owe me some girl time. On the other hand, I  _ need _ to update you on the hottest gossip,” Alya set herself down in a pink, velvet chair. “So apparently there’s this fashionista going around to parties. People are saying that she reminds them of a little ladybug. And  _ gosh _ , do all the girls I work with wanna know where she gets those dresses!”

Marinette maintained her front and smiled at Alya’s news. 

“Alya, you’re gonna make Nino worried about you. It’s only been three months since you two got married, and you’re still going to all these clubs?” Marinette shook her head. 

Alya chuckled and raised her brows. “What makes you think he’s not coming with me to all these parties? How do you think we first met? He and I hooked up after a swing session at-”

“ _ OKAY _ , let’s not continue that. It’s twelve ‘till eight. Shouldn’t you be getting ready with the other maids?” Marinette sidetracked. “How will you all manage to get there without the Tsurugis noticing?” 

Alya laughed as she left the store. “Don’t worry about it! I’ll spill whatever big happens at Boîte de L’âme tomorrow. Something  _ always _ happens there.”

Marinette let out a breath of relief and slipped out the red dress. Only a few more touches left and she would be ready to don the newest outfit for the biggest fashion icon in Paris.

And that night, thousands of people bustled about in the bright streets of 1920’s Paris, France. The sounds of the trumpet, guitar, piano, and drums filled the halls of Boîte de L’âme, or otherwise known as the “club of the soul.” And down those halls, up on the stage, stood Luka Couffaine. 

“Alright folks. Tonight is just like any other night. We serve, we perform, we get our pay, and we enjoy every second of it. Got it?” Luka looked around at his staff. Rose, Ivan, and Mylene all nodded. 

Ivan chuckled, “Dude, let down the act already, You’re starting to scare me.” 

With that, Luka loosened up and smiled his signature smile. “Well then,” Luka glanced at the clock. “The club opens up at eight thirty sharp! Let’s get to it.”

Mylene quickly gave Ivan a peck on the lips and fluttered away to the back with her tray and waitress apron. The big, gruff man huffed and headed towards the drum set on the stage while Rose stationed herself in front of the piano. Luka slung his guitar strap over his head and waited until one of the waiters opened the doors to the jazz club.

Plenty of different French citizens of different classes came rushing into the area. It was easy to tell what class or social status a person had. Nevertheless, Luka made it his job to disregard all the “class business” because his club did not have any social standards. Anyone of any class would be able to come into Boîte de L’âme and feel at ease with the music.

It was almost three hours since the club had opened at eight. The end of this song would mark the end of the day’s work for Luka and the jazz ensemble. The new jukebox or the gramophone would have to take over for the rest of the night. Luka continued strumming his guitar and singing with a soothing, yet soulful tone. 

There were so many soul songs he could hear and many he could make songs out of for the next night… but then a sudden tune rang out above all others.

Everyone, literally  _ everyone’s  _ heads turned as a certain black-haired woman swung open the doors to Boîte de L’âme. Her beautiful, bold, red dress flowed as she waltzed into the club. The mysterious woman wore a bright red mask, concealing her identity and intriguing everyone in range. 

Of course, she also left Luka with his mouth hanging open. Quickly snapping out of his stupor, he carried on with his performance. But whenever he looked down from the stage, all he could see was the elegant, raven-haired woman with radiant, sea-blue eyes observing him. And every time he caught a view of her, he was wary of keeping his gaze on her for any longer.

As soon as he finished playing the last note, Luka sped down the stage to get a chance to talk to her. But when he finally did arrive, Luka saw a blonde man wearing black mask and suit grabbing the elusive lady with more force than needed.

“I said no! How many times do I have to say it? I’m sorry kitty, but I really don’t-”

“But you don’t  _ what _ ? Just spend a day with me — preferably a night with me — and you’ll want me,” the man in black pressed. The lady in red looked distressed and that was when she caught Luka’s eye. He took it as a signal for help.

Luka stepped in, “I don’t know what’s happened here, but I’m gonna need you to distance yourself from this mademoiselle.” 

The young woman looked up at him gratefully and crossed her arms over her chest when she looked back at the masked man. The green eyes of the man in the black tux seared in anger and he stormed out of the club without another word.

“Thank you so much for that. It would’ve been hell to get him off me again.” the woman exhaled. 

_ Did she say again? How many times has that guy harassed this lady?  _ Luka thought.

“I’m just glad that I was able to help. I wouldn’t want the worst for any customer in Boîte de L’âme. It’s supposed to be a safe haven for anyone of any class.” Luka expressed with concern. “If he hurt you-”

“I’m fine, he didn’t hurt me,” the woman said as she ran her hand down his arm and held his hand with assurance. She wasn’t aware of the effect this had on Luka. He was extremely conscious of her touch when she came in closer, stroked his hands with her thumbs, and smiled at him. Her vanilla bean scent oozed through the atmosphere and he just stood there in slack-jawed. Oh jeez, her  _ touch _ . Her  _ smell _ . Her  _ smile _ .

“My name is Luka Couffaine,” Luka muttered as he peered at the woman for approval before letting his hands fall to her waist. She giggled quietly before meeting his eyes and wrapping her arms around his neck. 

The girl tip-toed up and pulled Luka down to whisper, “You can call me Madame Coccinelle.”

Coccinelle’s lips brushed Luka’s right ear, jumbling his mind with her every move. Her face fell when she glanced at the clock. Suddenly, she zipped back down, letting her arms fall off him. 

“Sorry, but it looks like the party’s over. See you next time,  garçon bleu.”

And just like that, Madame Coccinelle was whisked away into the crowd, leaving a dumbfounded Luka to stare absent-mindedly as he put his hand over his right ear.

_ Elle va me tuer... _


	2. Ch 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two meet without the mask.

What Luka hadn’t known was that Marinette was just as affected as he was. As soon as she left the club, she rushed back to her boutique before anybody else left the club. 

The streets of Paris were empty. Only the streetlamps illuminated the path to her shop. Every store was locked up and there were faint sounds of music in the distance. After opening the lock on the front door, Marinette waltzed into her small, dainty boutique. Not a single light was on.

She sighed as she slipped off the sparkling red dress. Marinette closed her eyes and remembered his blue eyes, blue suit, handsome face, and toned body.  _ She wanted to be swept off her feet with those strong arms and his beautiful voice and feel the solid plains of his chest as he leans down to capture her lips- _

Marinette shook her head, snapping out of her fantasy. She changed into her normal, baby pink gown and removed her mask. Instead of thinking about le garçon bleu, she decided to put her mind into displaying Coccinelle’s dress at the front of her boutique. 

After she was sure that the dress was shown in its full glory, she turned to leave the store.

By the next morning, the whole of Paris discovered that the miraculous Ladybug had been buying dresses from a dainty little shop called “Pour Toujours.” Newspapers with Marinette’s boutique on the front cover were littered around the streets. And of course, Marinette was berated with questions from Alya the moment she got to the store.

“You never told me that you were making dresses for Coccinelle! God,  _ all _ the maids are asking to come with me here cuz they know I’m your bestie. They don’t even know the price for the dresses you make!” Alya blasted off. She put down her basket with eggs and milk onto the pink velvet chair to look into the huge wall mirror. 

“Alya, what’s wrong?”

“I-I also want a dress… but I know it’s too much to ask for. You already made my wedding dress for me all those months ago.” Alya turned away from the mirror. Marinette scoffed as she positioned Alya to look at the mirror again.

“It’s not too much. You were there for me when my family was criticized for inter-racial and mixed-class marriage. You fought off all the bullies when I couldn’t. So think of this as a gift.” 

Alya started tearing up at Marinette’s words and the two hugged. 

“Oh, I don’t know why, but I’ve been such an emotional wreck these days.” Alya huffed and she let go of Marinette. “But thank you Mari… for even staying friends with a commoner like me.”

“Alright, Alya. As much as I’d love to stay like this, you and I both have jobs to do. And if you don’t wanna get mobbed by the crowd outside, I suggest you take the back door.” Marinette advised. Alya left as swiftly as she came in.

Marinette scoped the masses and sighed. Today was going to be a long day.

The day passed so slowly for Luka. He would strum his guitar to a melody and it was  _ her _ melody. Dear lord, he was starstruck. And his sister could tell.

Juleka snorted, “So who’s the lucky girl this time?”

“There’s nobody in particular…” Luka replied.

“Don’t fuck around with me, we both know you’ve been playing the same tune for hours. Who is it?” Juleka deadpanned. 

The boat swayed along with his heart. 

“Don’t be surprised.” Luka warned. When Juleka scoffed, he muttered, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Like there’s anything that can surprise me.” 

“It’s Coccinelle. I- uh…  _ We _ met, I think.” Luka stammered. He was sure he felt something for Ladybug, but was he sure that it was serious? “We haven’t really talked much, but I’m interested.”

“No shit Sherlock.  _ All _ the males (and some females) of France would be at her beck and call. I know for a fact that I’d let her step on me.” Juleka snarked with an air of disappointment. “Tell me what’s really going on when you feel like it.”

Luka just sat there on the stern of the ship with his guitar resting on his legs, dumbfounded. He wasn’t the type to lie and his sister knew that. He shook his head and thought about the night before.

Ladybug’s sweet  and alluring voice, her confident and positive demeanor, her delicious scent, her infectious laugh, her dazzling and kind smile, her beautiful blue eyes, and her soul song,  _ oh God _ , her soul song! It was unlike anything he’d ever heard before.

No, she was unlike anyone he’d met before. But he didn’t know her at all.

“Hey, I’m back.” Juleka called out.

“What is it?”

“You wanna come with me to your beloved Coccinelle’s boutique with me? The public may have no idea who she is, but apparently the boutique’s owner made the dresses for Coccinelle herself.” Juleka called out. “Besides, I needed a new dress anyways.”

Luka chuckled and agreed to go with his sister.

And Marinette could not believe that the blue boy she was daydreaming about was in her shop. 

“Uh, bonjour! Welcome to  Pour Toujours. How can I help you? I’m…” the raven-haired girl trailed off. “Marinette…”

The two locked eyes and Luka darted his eyes away in embarrassment. 

Juleka noticed something weird going on between the two but overlooked it.

And now Luka had two women he was infatuated with.

**Author's Note:**

> Boîte de L’âme means "club of the soul" in French.
> 
> Coccinelle means Ladybug in French.
> 
> Garçon bleu means "blue boy" in French.


End file.
